Arranged Marriages
by Annaelle
Summary: AU Prince!Killian & Princess!Emma Oneshot inspired by recent spoiler pictures of Killian's costume change and Emma's ballgown.


**I did a thing... Blame the newly released promo pictures... Prince!Killian and Princess!Emma.**

**Thoughts? **

**Love, **

**Annaelle**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Emma is twenty-three, beautiful and the heir to the throne.

Her parents are the epitome of True Love, and they have been patient with their daughter. But even they cannot indulge in her refusal to wed for much longer, and Emma is well aware of this.

They have been organizing ball after ball, forcing her to endure dance after dance with pretentious princes with heads so big it's a miracle their crowns fit at all. She doesn't want to get married for the sake of their kingdom—she still dreams of having the kind of love her parents share, however rare it is, and she knows she won't have it like this—but laws are absolute, and she must be wedded before she is crowned Queen.

Forcing her into marriage with a big-headed clown pretending to be a prince—however much it might aid her and the kingdom in the end—will not help her find her happy ending.

She's always known that.

But that knowledge still does not have her prepared for the conversation she's about to have now. She doesn't want to do this—not at all—but he's her only option, and she _knows_ her parents, nor his, wouldn't object to the union.

And, if she _doesn't_ do this, she'll be forced into marriage with Prince Hans of somewhere-she-doesn't-care-about and she _can't_ let that happen.

He's her only option.

They're best friends; he'll understand. He'll want to help.

She swallows thickly before pushing the door to the castle's library open tentatively. "Killian? Are you there?" She finds him with his head buried in a thick, dusty book about sailing and all sorts of nautical things and smiles—ever since they'd been children, he'd been fascinated by the seas, boats and everything that came with it.

It ran in his family.

His older brother, Liam, who was originally meant to take the throne after their parents, had even abdicated when he was twenty so he could be a captain in the Royal Navy.

And, like her, Killian had always refused to marry for any reason other than love—at twenty-seven, the single crown prince of their neighbor kingdom was even more of a scandal than she was.

"Swan," he looks up, smiling brightly at her, patting the seat next to his, and she relaxes just a little bit, feeling just a little bit better, "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She sinks down on the plush cushion and offers him a shy smile.

"I need to… I need to ask a huge favor of you," she rambles nervously, "And I know it might be too much, but I can't ask anyone else, I don't know what else to do a—"

"Emma," Killian chuckles, resting his hand on hers, "Calm down, lass. What is it?"

"Marry me," Emma blurts, her cheeks burning when Killian's jaw goes slack, his eyes wide and startled, and … Dear Lord, she should've thought this through better.

"Emma," he breathes, "What? I'm—we're not—what?"

His completely dumbstruck expression _is_ a little funny, and she can't stop the small giggle that falls from her lips at the indignant look on his face. "I'm sorry," she apologizes, "I'm sorry—I just… I'm desperate, Killian. They've got a candidate, and I can't refuse anymore. The laws state I must be wedded before I am crowned." She looks down and bites her lip nervously, "And I know your parents have been pushing you about selecting a bride as well, and… I thought that, perhaps… Since we are being thrown into an arranged marriage anyway…"

She swallows thickly and finally scrapes up enough of her courage to look him in the eye again, "I'd rather be married to you—someone I _know_, a friend, someone I could learn to love, in time—than to some pompous prick who'd just try to take my crown from me at the first opportunity."

His eyes are soft and warm, and she knows he understands—of course he does—but he still looks apprehensive, and his tone is hesitant as he says, "Emma, love, you do understand everything marriage between us would have to entail? I wouldn't want to—"

Emma rolls her eyes and smacks his arm. "Come on, Killian. I'm not stupid. Besides," she smirks, "It's not like it would be the first time."

"Emma, a couple of stolen kisses do not equal bedding you on the wedding night," he retorts indignantly, glaring at her. She sighs and nods, taking his hand and squeezing it tightly with both of hers. "I know," she nods, "I know. But again…" She chews on her lower lip nervously before giving him a small smile, "I'd rather it be you than anyone else. You'd treasure it… _Me_. They would only see it as a prize."

His fingers are suddenly tracing the curve her jaw and her skin tingles, but she's _so_ nervous and desperate and he just _has_ to say yes.

"Please," she breathes, closing her eyes when he leans in, his forehead resting against hers, his breathing heavy and labored. "You're going to be the death of me, Emma," he grumbles, his fingers curling around the back of her neck, "What if we are not at all compatible?"

She grins, tilting her head a little closer to his, so she can feel the heat from his lips radiating onto hers, "You know that's not true. We've already tested that theory. Multiple times." She pecks his lips quickly before withdrawing, blinking up at him, "You know this is the only option; the only one we could both live with—we need to be wedded before we take the throne; if we marry each other," she offers him a shy smile, "At least we'd be with one we care about already."

His answering smile is beautiful, and she knows she made the right decision in asking him, because waking up to that smile for the rest of her life just _can't_ be a bad thing, even if it would be an arranged marriage.

"I don't need to learn how to love you, Swan," he grins, moving to tuck one of her loose curls behind her ear, "I already do." She smiles brilliantly and leans in again, breathing, "Then marry me, Jones," against his lips, her heart thudding heavily against her ribcage as she waits for his response.

"Fine," he breathes back, chuckling under his breath, "Vixen. Be proud—no other woman has ever even been able to snare my hand in marriage; they did not even tempt me." She knows it's not true; she's heard all about the older, beautiful servant, Milah, she believes her name was, that had worked in his parents' palace and seduced the young prince, wrapping him around her pinkie finger with promises of love and marriage and everything he could ever want, before she made off with all the jewels and gold she could carry.

He'd never been the same since.

But Emma knows what he means now; he's not just marrying her because of the practical reasons she laid out; he's marrying her because he knows they have a chance; a chance at True Love.

"Good," she whispers, before kissing him again. And this time, it's not forbidden or wrong.

.

.

.

They tell their parents together.

They're all delighted and throw an enormous ball to celebrate. Emma and Killian dance together the entire night—he thinks she looks enchanting in her red, silk dress, and she thinks he's the most handsome man she's ever seen in his brown leather coat and black waistcoat, his eyes blue and sparkling when he suddenly drops to one knee in the middle of the ballroom, offering her a small, diamond engagement ring that she immediately falls in love with—of course he'd know she preferred smaller, subtle jewelery over big gaudy diamonds.

She knows Prince Hans whatever is watching and that she probably insulted him—and his parents—by rejecting his proposal, but she doesn't care.

She's going to marry Killian, and she will love him as he already claims he loves her, and they will rule side by side—and they will abolish the laws that forced them into marriage before taking their crown.

Their children will never have to face this choice.

She smiles and giggles and lets him spin her around on the dancefloor, feeling light and happy for the first time since she realized she'd have to arrange a marriage.

Because this man…

She can love this man.


End file.
